“What are you doing?” Emily said.
Standing in front of the stove, Denise rested the whisk in the pot and turned to face her sister, Emily’s hazel eyes meeting her gaze.
“What do you mean?” Denise replied.
“Did you just put sour cream in the gravy?”
“Yeah. I always do. What’s the problem?”
Emily raked a hand through her dark hair as she approached. “You know Uncle Jerry doesn’t like sour cream,” she whispered.
Denise’s lips stretched into a grin. “Oh. I know. But he loves the gravy.”
“He doesn’t know?”
Denise shook her head, and a chuckle escaped Emily’s mouth.
“How long have you been doing this?” Emily asked.
“For as long as I’ve been hosting Christmas.”
Emily pondered. “That’s like five years or so.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What are my two favorite nieces up to?” a voice said.
Denise flinched, and Emily spun around to look.
It was Uncle Jerry. He stared at Denise through a pair of spectacles; a couple patches of white hair sprouting from the sides of his otherwise bald head.
“Just putting the finishing touches on lunch,” Denise said.
Uncle Jerry stepped into the kitchen, his eyes going wide.
Denise followed his gaze, and that’s when she noticed the container of sour cream on the counter beside her.
“Is that what I think it is?” Uncle Jerry said.
Denise’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
He lifted a finger and pointed at the counter. “Is that sour cream?”
Denise eyed the open container and swallowed, choking down her anxiety. “Whoa. Good catch, Uncle Jerry. I was going to use some heavy cream for the mashed potatoes, but I must have accidentally taken out the sour cream instead.”
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” he said.
“Of course not.”
“Anyway, your mother is asking for a bottle opener, so I told her I’d get it for her.”
“Sure.” Denise gripped the knob of a nearby drawer, pulling it ajar. She grasped the bottle opener and extended a hand, offering it to her uncle. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, honey,” he said, snatching it from her.
“No problem.”
Denise watched as Uncle Jerry exited the kitchen. When he finally disappeared from view, she let out a much-needed breath.
“That was close,” Emily said.
“Too close.”
“How come you never told me about this?”
Denise shrugged. “Maybe because you could never keep a secret when we were kids.”
Emily crossed her arms, holding them close to her chest. “Come on. We’re in our thirties now. I can certainly keep a secret.”
“I’m just messing with you.”
Emily’s face eased, and a hint of a smile appeared. “Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from me?”
“Well.” Denise paused. “I know he doesn’t care for onions either, but I’ve been sneaking those into the stuffing for years.”
Emily’s shoulders bobbed from laughter, and Denise couldn’t help but snicker.
INSTANT NOODLES 